When I was 25, I moved into a house out in Portland Oregon barely knowing anyone in the city. I needed a roommate, so I Craigslist-ed an ad and conducted a small set of interviews to fill the extra room. A guy named Travis moved into the room eventually. He was younger than me by about 4 years, but he had a consistent job and seemed reasonable so I took him.

Moving in three weeks later, I find out he lied about everything in the interview. He had no job. His dad paid his rent. He had a click of collar-popped douche bags that would hang out at the house all day. I had invited in a self proclaimed "playa" into the house. Face to face, he would be nice to me in his sly way. When I left the house, he would subtly search through my room and steal petty shit - a used fax machine, quarters out of my change jar, outdated mp3 player, old watches he found to be "baller", etc. I confronted him a few times, and he would always deny it. When I caught him openly eating my food and denying it, I attempted to kick him out. He stayed by citing his tenant's rights. Because most of it was petty, I decided to look the other way while his ego grew bigger.

Things died down for a few weeks. One day I come back home from work and Travis had stolen the only shirt I knew he would steal from my closet. It was a two year old Lacoste shirt. When he had the nerve to wear it in front of me, I decided this was the final straw. Giving him his last way out, I decided to ask him: "Hey, I have that same exact shirt in my closet." I figured if he had any soul left, he would simply say "I borrowed it from your closet". He decided to lie about it telling me he had gotten it from the mall a few days ago. The audacity!

The sociopath switch in my head decided to flip on. I knew Travis thought I was too pussy to ask for the shirt back. He thought I was a doormat, and I was going to play directly into that. I understood the mindset of a young 20 something "alpha male". Travis' birthday was coming up in about a month and a half (he made it known because he told me his mom was going to get him a new Burberry shirt) and I was going to make that the day I strike. I played into his fake friendly-ness and started hanging out with him. I made friends with his douche bag friends. When they started calling me, I knew I had them. I'd buy them occasional drinks when we were out to seed my future plans of generosity.

Birthday comes. Game time. Travis had an obsession with doing cocaine over the last few months. Nothing big since he was broke, so most of his binge's were in small amounts. I pulled him over in the middle of the day and told him I had a birthday surprise for him. To pump up his ego more, I told him I only did this for the best of my "boys". We go out for a night of drinks. I buy him enough drinks to get him shit housed and we head back to the house for the after party. I had called a few females over during the night to make the after party request legit. When we get to the house, I walk out of my room with half an eight of cocaine in my hands.

"Travis! This is the surprise you've been waiting for!"

I dump a mound of white onto a black plate and spelled his name out on it. I was going to take a picture of Travis hitting the fattest line of cocaine in existence- with his name one it.

With his name laid out in cocaine over a black plate, the stage was set. I hand Travis a rolled up twenty, and told him to hit it. The pandemonium behind his back built the pressure cooker need to push him into doing it. As Travis sucked his head down to the plate, I told him to give me a party pose next to his special surprise. Travis produced the single best duck face pose I had ever seen. One hand holding the rolled up twenty, and the other to throw his white boy downward deuce.

Gotcha.

The next morning, everyone was flaccid. The girls had left about an hour after we reached the house, and the chemical leftovers of the alcohol and cocaine destroyed any productivity planned within the house. I call up my friend Nick to induce the second part of the plan. Nick was labeled as my Russian body guard. He was 6'5, and weighed in at about 280 pounds of pure muscle. When Nick arrives, me and him go into Travis' room and drag him by his legs into the living room. Travis was startled, but barely awake.

I bring him a laptop with the picture I had taken last night of him.

"You are looking at a picture I took of you last night. I've already uploaded it into a image hosting site, and copied this picture into a couple of safe places. There is no erasing this picture. Understand?"

"Yes"

"You're job right now is to prevent this from getting sent to your parents. The only way prevent this from getting sent to your parents is to pay for the coke I bought you last night, and move the fuck out."

Because Travis did not have a car, I gave him rides to his parents work and place of residence. I also knew a few of the addresses of where his friend's parents lived (google!). Travis was scared shit-less of his dad. If I had threatened to send any details of his fast life to his dad, Travis would obey everything. In the end, I had Travis pay $400 dollars for the half eight I had only paid $50 for. Travis moved out of the house within the same day.

About 3 months after the situation, I moved out of the house we shared. I sent the picture to his parents. To his parent's bosses. To all his parent's neighbors. Then to all the friend's parent's addresses. The cost? About $250 dollars. All paid for ala' Travis.

I do have proof. Picture is around on one of my computers, and I'll post that in the update if people are interested.

TL;DR Talked my clepto, thief of a roommate into buying a sack coke and having me take a picture of him doing a line of cocaine with his name spelt out on it. Which then I used the picture to blackmail him with. Then using the money I extorted from him, I sent the picture to everyone his parents knew.

DELIVERY UPDATE Picture has been officially uploaded at http://i.imgur.com/iD18FP4.jpg Suck it HATERS!